Waiting for Tomorrow
by whistle.the.silver
Summary: The winter solstice is upon Storybrooke and Regina celebrates with her family. Long winter nights leave time to reflect, connect and germinate. One shot that follows on from Even Though Our Love is Doomed. Swan Queen all the way!


_21st December_

Regina Mills turned from her laptop to lift a cup of coffee, enjoying the fragrant steam arising, despite how it fogged the lens of her reading glasses. Music was playing quietly, a soft voice accompanied by a plaintive guitar. The slightly melancholic lilt suited the cold winter morning glimpsed through drapes she'd been slow to open that morning, the dawn barely brightening the sky.

She rolled her shoulders and returned her cup to rest on a coaster, tapping out a short e-mail. She'd had quite the productive morning, actually, in the quiet of her home office. Henry had slept over with his grandparents the evening before, the roads slippery after a fresh fall of snow. Emma had been on duty and appeared to have been busy, given the relative dearth of text messages awaiting Regina on awakening. Regina had astounded herself by actually being a touch miffed at the lack of silly memes and ridiculous selfies to entertain her over breakfast. She'd take that scrap of information to the grave, mind.

Her heart, as always, gave a happy little thump at the thought of her family, as though wanting to remind her of the joy they inspired. A smile curled her lip as she clicked into another email, calling to mind Henry's messy hair and Emma's bright eyes. Her home had become much livelier since she'd opened it to others. First to a colicky baby who grew into a happy little boy. An increasingly snarky preteen as of late, but she'd forgive him that. She'd have been surprised if _none_ of her bitchiness had rubbed off on him. So far, he was channeling it into a rather quick wit, which pleased her enormously.

Keys rattled in the front door and her heart thumped again, her smile widening as she removed her spectacles and stood, smoothing her skirt and hair as she went. By the time she made it to the foyer, Emma was already balancing in the doorway on one sock-clad foot as she removed her snowy boots. Her breath steamed around her head, snarled hair tumbling from beneath her beanie. Regina paused on the stairs, one hand on the banister as she watched the scene unfold before her with affectionate amusement.

"Bring them in, darling," Regina called, "we'll dry them beside the boiler." She made no move towards the door, enjoying the sight of Emma entering her home. Of the easy, loose limbed confidence with which she moved. Of the sight of a firm backside clad in tight jeans flexing as she hopped from one foot to another.

Emma didn't start, instead relaxing her shoulders at the sound of her voice, which was a remarkably novel experience for Regina. She turned, holding her boots beneath one elbow and pushing the door closed as she went.

And oh, the poor thing looked exhausted. She was smiling but her eyelids were drooping, dark smudges along her nose completing the sorry picture. Regina stepped towards her, reaching out a hand. The peculiar scent of cold clung to Emma, tart and sharp to her nose. Emma took her hand and tugged her forward, though not into her arms, mindful of the chill she carried. Her fingers were cold and a bit wet, strong and sure as they gripped Regina's.

Regina stepped closer, finding the parka's zipper and running it down Emma's chest and belly. She'd not skimped on the sheriff's department winter gear, only a fool would have, and was disproportionately pleased at the heat that spilled from Emma's body. She raised her hands to Emma's green woolen sweater, sliding her hands into the warm gap between her shoulders and the parka. Moving in, she gave a little shiver at the contrast between her top and bottom halves. The cold seemed to radiate from Emma's jeans, shocking through the sheer fabric of her hose while heat spilled from her chest and eyes. Regina felt almost delicate, her sheer hosiery in contrast to the sturdy denim, though not at all fragile.

She stood on her toes, a little, and pressed a kiss to chilly, dry lips. Emma tilted her head slightly, her frost nipped nose nudging Regina's cheek. That scent filled her senses, then, of frosty mornings beneath bare trees and watery sunlight glancing off frozen puddles. Of sounds snapping for miles beneath a sky soft with the sort of clouds that never rained. Emma made a happy noise, though it was tinged with fatigue. A cold hand brushed her hip, hesitant and careful.

Regina kissed her chapped lips again and drew back. She took Emma's boots and slid a hand over her belly, patting gently.

"Have you eaten?"

"David brought breakfast," Emma replied, smiling fondly. "Bacon sandwiches." Regina wasn't entirely sure if the adoring expression was meant for her father or the food, there being very little (Henry) that ranked higher in Emma's affections than breakfast.

"Did you sleep?"

"No," Emma sighed, smiling ruefully. "Nothing happened but the whole world sure wanted to let me know about it, all the same."

Regina clucked her tongue in sympathy, enjoying the softness of Emma's sweater. It was a rare night that whoever was on duty didn't manage a few hours of sleep. David maintained it was the only way he could survive when Neal was teething. Regina had donated a few old pillows following a not entirely necessary redecoration of the guest bedroom.

"Go to bed, darling," she urged, lifting her spare hand to ease Emma's parka off her shoulders. Emma took the hint and shrugged out of it, handing it over before pulling her beanie off. Regina tipped her head at the mess of tangled curls and fixed Emma with a firm look.

"Please tie your hair up before you sleep." There wasn't enough conditioner in the house to deal with the potential bed-head of an Emma who seemed to have been at the mercy of the Arctic wind that had brought a foot of snow along for the ride.

Emma nodded sleepily and leaned forward, placing a reverent kiss on Regina's lower lip as she fished around in the pocket of her jeans.

"You going in to work?"

"I have a meeting at eleven," Regina replied. "Then I'll wrap up until the New Year."

"'Kay," Emma yawned, "drive safe, babe." She glanced down at her phone and flicked through a couple of notifications. "Urgh. Two percent and thirty unread messages."

Regina reshuffled the gear in her arms and held out a hand, lifting an eyebrow. Knowing Emma, she'd do her best to respond to all of them. As sleep deprived as she was, the noble idiot would probably offer a kidney.

"I'll leave it charging in the study," she said, firmly. "Go and sleep. The town won't implode."

Emma almost seemed relieved and touched her hip again as she dropped a lingering kiss to her temple. She headed up the stairs, yawning as she went and Regina moved to the basement, setting Emma's boots and jacket to dry in the warmth beside the boiler. She'd really need to investigate upgrading the insulation around it, she mused, but at least it served as a makeshift drying room.

She returned to the study, then, plugging Emma's phone in to charge and returning to her cooling coffee and rapidly multiplying inbox. Rabbits wouldn't have a look in, she mused dryly. She could understand some of the panic, though. The mayor's office would be shut for the next two weeks, barring emergencies, and people were scrambling to submit paperwork and lodge complaints before she indulged in the luxury of ignoring them for a fortnight.

Half an hour passed before she was interrupted again, this time by the loud blaring of Emma's phone. Her ringtone was so obnoxiously noisy that Regina suspected it had been magically enhanced. She glanced over, frowning when she saw Michael Tillman's name appear on the screen.

She sighed, a mixture of annoyance and sympathy flashing through her breast. The Bug had suffered yet another bout of engine failure, brought on this time by the fuel pump, and while Regina was glad that her lover was not navigating the icy roads in her motorized soup can, the sorrow that crossed Emma's face every time she remember the state of affairs was enough to tug at Regina's blackened heart.

She lifted the phone, swiping to answer as she went.

"Good morning, Regina answering Emma's phone."

It was something, progress perhaps, that Michael didn't appear at all surprised to hear her answer Emma's phone. It was something else, entirely, that he didn't sound as though he was scared of her, even a little.

Henry bounded up the steps of the porch ahead of her, juggling groceries. He was overjoyed to be free from school for two entire weeks and Regina found herself smiling at his enthusiasm. He was lucky, for once, to be enrolled in school in Storybrooke. They were much more generous with vacation time than most parts of the country, after all. This had mainly been due to a completely uncharacteristic (in her opinion and no one else's) bout of separation anxiety when she'd enrolled Henry in Kindergarten. The statute was still on the books, though, and she had little desire to reverse it.

Her son was treating her to a very out of key rendition of _Let it Snow_ as he kicked his shoes into the hall closet. He darted into the kitchen, dumping the groceries on the counter before returning, unwinding his scarf and grinning.

"So, it's solstice eve. Does that mean I get to open a present?" he asked, hopefully.

"No," Regina chuckled. "You do not. It doesn't work like that." She touched his cheek briefly, chest warm at the affection plainly displayed. God, she'd missed it so much during the bad times. "I was thinking a nice, quiet evening on the couch with some movies, and a lie in tomorrow."

Henry was getting old enough to adore sleeping in and he nodded happily. Rising at the crack of dawn at the weekend was a part of Henry's childhood she wouldn't miss too terribly, she'd admit, but part of her was sad to see her little boy growing up. She adored the young man he was slowly becoming, though, intelligent and kind and perfectly snarky when he wished to be.

"Hey, you two," a voice fuzzy with sleep murmured, emerging from the living room. Emma was rubbing her eyes and yawning widely as she entered the hall way, her hair caught in a messy bun atop her head. She was wearing a baggy sweatshirt and plaid bottoms, comfy and soft with exhaustion still.

"I lit the fire," she proclaimed, satisfaction in her voice. "Figured it might be nice for later."

Regina smiled, chest brimming with contentment and happiness. Henry hugged his mother and nothing could have made Regina happier, in that moment.

A couple of hours later found Regina curled with Emma and Henry on the comfy couch (there were several and not all of them were suited to lounging) watching _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. _They'd tucked into steaming bowls of onion soup, earlier, accompanied by crusty bread and enough cheese to make Regina consider investing in a dairy herd.

"It looks even colder there than it is here," Emma murmured, heavy against her chest. She'd scrunched into an improbably small ball, drifting in and out of sleep. One hand, now pleasantly warm, had found its way beneath Regina's sweater and was resting on the bottom of her ribs. Emma was, it turned out, incredibly affectionate. She was constantly bestowing gentle touches and hugs, stealing kisses as they passed each other. That she was making up for lost time and love had occurred to Regina, more than once.

She pressed her lips to a smooth forehead, nuzzling at Emma's hairline. Well, she was more than a little in the red when it came to physical affection, as well, and figured they'd just have to try and correct that together.

Henry shifted on her other side, head bumping against her shoulder as he leaned for the popcorn. He snickered at the sight of Emma wound into some form of blonde pretzel but tucked the throw rug around her shoulder more securely. He leaned back into his own corner of the couch, but tucked his feet beneath Regina's thigh, wiggling his toes happily as he made himself comfy.

"Yeah, life without central heating can't have been fun," he mused, snuggling beneath his edge of the throw.

"It wasn't," Regina agreed, eyes sliding shut as Emma ran her thumb gently over a rib. Regina shifted slightly, the light touch ticklish, and Emma stilled her hand. "The nights were so long, darker than you can imagine. The snows usually came before yule and if they'd been heavy, the roads were unusable."

"How'd you guys get around?" Henry asked, motioning to the film. "A sled?"

"Sometimes," Regina replied. "But it was a dangerous was to travel. If it was a long journey, you were at risk of frostbite. There was always a chance of the sleigh falling into a crevasse, too."

Emma's hand wound its way around her waist, as though the thought of harm befalling her was upsetting. She leaned more firmly against her lover and sighed, eyes drifting to the fireplace.

"So you curled up, safe and sound with the people that you loved, and told each other stories. All through the long, long nights."

Henry leaned forward, pausing the film and turning curious eyes to hers.

"What kind of stories?"

Regina felt Emma chuckle against her chest and rubbed her cheek against the hair escaping her bun and Regina felt a slow smile curl her lip.

"Once upon a time..."

_22nd December_

Regina woke slowly, too used to rising early in the morning to resist her stubborn inborn alarm clock. She inhaled and rolled onto her back, stretching slightly. She turned to the side, smiling at the sight of Emma almost buried in a heap of pillows. She was close by, a hand had been resting on Regina's hip before she'd moved. She felt her lips stretch into a smile at the sight of the beautiful woman beside her and she gently ran the back of her knuckles over Emma's fingers, unwilling to wake her.

It was still dark, though a streak of neon from a streetlight found a gap between drapes, and quiet but for the familiar sighs and creaks of the house around them. She slid out from underneath the warm sheets, heading for her bathroom, urged by an impatient bladder. Business done and teeth brushed, she returned to the bed and curled beneath the sheets. They had nothing planned, after all, aside from spending time together with Henry and she doubted their son would rouse himself before ten, at the earliest.

Emma turned to her as she returned to bed, sleepy eyes blinking open. "Mrrrgghhh?" she moaned in question from behind closed lips and Regina chuckled, letting her head roll back onto her pillow. In Emma speak, that was usually how she asked if she could stay in bed a while longer.

"Mh, mmm," she responded in similar, albeit affirmative fashion. Emma slid a hand over her belly and shuffled closer, shifting onto her side and nudging Regina to follow suit. She obliged, rolling over and letting Emma spoon her. A warm nose nudged the back of her neck and muscular legs curled beneath her thighs. She snagged Emma's hand between her own, idly playing with elegant fingers.

Emma was warm and solid behind her, a comforting weight against which she could relax. Her eyes drifted shut, though she didn't think sleep was on the cards, and allowed herself to indulge in the luxury of uninterrupted quiet time with her lover.

Emma's breaths were even, somewhere between slumber and wakefulness. Regina wasn't sure if she was awake or asleep or something in between but she was content. She closed her eyes and let her focus drift to where Emma's skin touched her own. Their feet brushed together, Regina warming her cold toes against Emma's. Their arms slid together, too, over her waist and Emma had buried her nose in her hair, emerging to nudge the skin behind her ear.

After a while, how long Regina couldn't guess, Emma inhaled hugely, yawning into the side of her neck. She stretched herself out, her chest pressing into Regina's back for a moment before she cuddled in. She lifted her head and pressed a long, noisy kiss to where Regina's shoulder met her neck, eliciting a noise that might have been called a giggle, had another person made it.

She curled her own top hand up, sinking her fingers into soft hair as Emma chuckled into her skin, her voice low and enticing from sleep. Her hand shifted, coming up to rest on Regina's ribs for a moment before it smoothed its way around to just below her belly button and back. It found another route for its next journey, along the edge of her side and onto her hip.

"I love this," Emma murmured. "It's like a little ski slope or something," she rasped, her hand tracing the same path again. Regina suspected she should be slightly outraged, but Emma's sleepy fondness was far too endearing. She tugged at Regina's pyjama bottoms gently, rolling them off the prominence of her hip. Her warm palm curved over her back, resting even as her fingers ran over the tip of her hipbone.

Regina bit her lip, gently tugging at Emma's hair. "Tickles," she admitted, quietly.

Emma's fingers stilled then and she tugged Regina's bottoms back up, though she did manage to find a spot to rest her hand on bare skin where Regina's top had ridden up.

"Sorry," she murmured, pressing another slow kiss to the side of her neck. "Every part of you is just put together so perfectly."

Oh, her beautiful Emma could turn her into a small, soft ball of contentedness and affection with such little effort that she should have been embarrassed. She was a queen, after all. She'd terrified villagers and been dreadful to small children, in her time. She wielded enormous magical power and more or less ruled the town.

Emma kissed her again, with reverence and patience. "Just the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen."

Regina raised her eyebrows at that, wondering if Emma Swan had bothered looking into a mirror recently. She rolled over, turning to face Emma for a moment. Sleepy eyes were just about visible in the fitful street light shining in through one window, sparkling and reverent. As though Emma, and not Regina, was the one who was lucky to be there.

Regina ran her thumb over Emma's cheek, not quite cupping her face, and kissed her lips chastely.

"Not the most beautiful that I've ever seen, though," Regina teased. "Not to mention brave and devoted and kind." She kissed her again, just as softly. "Smart and hard working, too."

Emma rolled her eyes at that, and Regina suspected she was blushing. Emma was not, she had learned, able to take a compliment easily, unless it was about something she'd _done_. She preened if congratulated about her work as sheriff or for helping Henry with his homework but seemed most averse to anything else. As though she couldn't quite bring herself to believe good things about her.

"I'm just me," Emma said, quietly, as though that wasn't something wonderful in and of itself.

"You are most certainly you, for which I'm very grateful," Regina chided, rolling Emma onto her back. "Because you are my favorite person in the world, bar Henry, and we are very lucky to have you."

Regina moved, shifting to lie on top of Emma. She curled her hands beneath Emma's shoulders and propped herself up on elbows set snugly against her lover's side. Emma sighed happily, wiggling with pleasure. Emma had told her, more than once, that she loved feeling her resting on top of her when they cuddled, that it made her feel strong and grounded.

Reverent hands came up to touch her waist, settling into little curves that Regina usually hid beneath shape wear but Emma assured her were barely noticeable. Regina spent a moment studying Emma before kissing her lips gently again. The passion they frequently enjoyed together was absent, as it sometimes was in softer moments like this, and Regina felt her heart settle at the comfort of this kind of intimacy.

"Just you, as though that isn't a marvel in and of itself," she whispered, trading another small kiss. "As though you never pulled the moon from the sky, or brought our son into the world."

Emma was silent, then, blushing but pleased. She relaxed her head and inhaled deeply, whispering that she loved her, the words settling into the darkness of Regina's heart like seeds into quiet winter soil

The sun was slow to rise, as was their day to begin. A long sleep in was followed by a leisurely breakfast before they'd bundled up to enjoy a walk. Emma and Regina strolled along a frosty path, breath steaming before their faces, fingers intertwined in gloves. Henry was stomping in front of them, taking photos of the snowy tableau and chattering happily to them. His exuberance and joy were wonderful to see, beneath the still trees and unenthusiastic light of the shortest day. His voice echoed through the forest, carrying far on the crisp air. The light had somewhat of a faded quality to it, the slanting rays of a low sun bronzing the bare trees around them. The cold air shimmered in the distance, freezing fog blurring the line of the horizon. The sky was clouding over once more in the south, though, as snow clouds began their march to replenish their earlier deposits.

Regina leaned her head against Emma's shoulder and sighed happily. It was peaceful around them, the only sound her son's boots snapping the frost on puddles and she was filled with an uncommon sense of contentment. Emma tugged her hand closer, nestling their arms together and nuzzling Regina's hat.

"He'd love a dog, I bet," Emma mused, her voice wistful. "Some big mutt to run around with."

Or a little brother or sister, Regina thought, surprising herself with the notion. Surprising herself with the ache that settled in her chest at the idea of raising another child with Emma Swan. Of a little girl with green eyes, or another little boy with hair softer than down.

Her mind drifted to when she'd sought Gold, ordering him to find her a child. Recalled the aching void within her chest and the hole she'd been desperate to fill. It felt different now, though. As though she was filled, to brimming and overflowing, with love and affection. As though there wasn't any limit to what she could give.

She turned and kissed Emma's cold cheek, breathing in the precious scent of her skin, heart buoyant and unencumbered as they followed their son though the quiet woods.

"This is the longest night of the year," Regina explained, as she fussed with dinner. They'd left David, Granny and Henry playing cards in front of the fire, Snow feeding Neal and reading a book above them. Ruby was setting the table, dutifully darting in and out of the dining room. "Every night from now on is shorter."

She fixed her gaze on the dark windows, the night formidable and impenetrable without. A shiver ran down her spine, despite the heat of her kitchen.

"And though they all become shorter," Regina murmured, "this is truly only the start of winter. In the old world, animals were slaughtered, because there was limited fodder. Our methods of preservation weren't anything like what this world has. People starved, or died of cold if their fuel ran out."

Emma slid behind her, wrapping long arms around her waist. She was sure and strong, standing unbowed behind her. The muscles of her forearms like braided rope under Regina's thumb. A long kiss was placed behind her ear and she sighed, her voice breathy to her own ears.

"Oh, love," she murmured, "but the nights there were so beautiful. In the depths of winter, when there was nothing to light the world but the stars and the snow. You could hear the world crackling around you in the cold, but I liked to pretend the stars were singing to us."

"Maybe some day, we could visit," Emma mused, running the fingers of her left hand low over Regina's belly as she caught Regina's fingers with her right. "Take ourselves out somewhere quiet and just... Just be together."

"Sounds like a honeymoon," Regina mused.

"It could be," Emma agreed, kissing her ear.

The idea intrigued Regina enormously, more than she'd ever expected. She'd been certain and sure that she'd never consider marriage again, not on her life, and yet here was was imagining ribbons binding their interlaced fingers together. She leaned back against her lover and allowed herself to soak in the love she offered so freely. Imaging lying under an endless sky, stars gleaming coldly above them.

"Or travel here," Regina suggested. "Go up to see the Northern Lights, perhaps. Up to St John's, maybe."

"Canada, huh?" Emma chuckled. "You just want to see the country that gave the world Joni Mitchell, doncha?"

"And Alanis, don't forget," she teased. Emma swayed with her, singing the first few lines of _River, _her voice low and intimate in the bustle of the kitchen.

Ruby entered, then, a wistful grin on her face. "I think I'm all done in there. The beef smells amazing, not going to lie."

"It's a particularly good cut," Regina offered, squeezing Emma's hand and stepping a little away from her. They had a dinner to prepare, after all. And perhaps she had some Googling to do, later, about traveling north.

_23rd December_

The alarm blared through the warm darkness of Regina's bedroom, drawing a groan from Emma. Regina turned to silence it, regarding her lover as she curled back into her pillow. A flick of her fingers and the light in the en suite flickered to life, casting the room in a dim, buttery glow.

Emma's back was bare, strong muscle plain to see. Her skin was almost flawless, but for a few scars here and there. Regina had woven her hair into a plait the night before, as Emma had drifted to sleep, and the thought of the soft curls she would coax from it later thrilled her. How, she wondered, had she been lucky enough to find herself loved by the most beautiful woman she'd ever met?

She pressed a kiss to Emma's spine, the bony jut just north of her shoulder blades, and resisted the urge to lie against her, again, and to make love once more.

"Emma, sweetheart," she breathed, "come on. It's almost time."

Emma nodded, exerting a huge effort to lift her head from the pillow. "Um up."

"Almost," Regina agreed, sliding from the bed and into the en suite. She jumped into the shower, rinsing herself off but not bothering to wash her hair. They'd collapsed in each other's arms the night before, sweating and wet, and she didn't particularly relish the idea of sharing any hint of their intimacies with anyone else. That scent was theirs, and theirs alone.

Emma stumbled in behind her, all toned legs and drooping eyelids. She'd pinned her braid up off her shoulders, clearly not intending to wash her hair either. Her thumbs found the dimples at the bottom of Regina's back, giving an affectionate squeeze, before she went about freshening up.

Wearing their warmest sweatpants, they collected a sleepy Henry and a large collection of coats, hats and blankets before bundling themselves into the Benz. In another life, mere months previous, there was no way Regina Mills would have left the house in her casual wear, and yet here she was in her most worn flannel and thickest socks.

They drove through the predawn twilight, beneath skeletal trees and pockets of freezing fog, all the way to the pier. She rolled the car into a space beside David's truck, smiling despite herself when Snow lifted Neal to the window, waving his hand for him. David had an arm slung over her shoulders and saluted lazily, a grin on his face.

She reached out, her hand settling onto Emma's thigh, the firmness of muscle at odds with the softness of her bottoms. Emma flicked the radio on, turning it down and humming along to the Christmas music that filled the car. Henry bounced when he spotted Ruby, who delivered two steaming cups to Snow and David before approaching the Benz.

Emma was out of the car before Regina even lifted herself off the seat, flicking her own forward and hopping into the back with Henry. A certain amount of shuffling ensued, as well as the removal of the driver's side headrest, before Emma came to rest behind Regina, arms draped lazily around her neck. Ruby grinned beside her, offering coffee and hot chocolate to all.

Henry and Ruby sang along with the CD, enjoying the last few moments of darkness, and Emma nuzzled the back of her head, pressing small kisses to her hair. She grabbed one of her hands, bringing Emma's knuckles to her lips and kissing them reverently. What a difference to the previous year, to all the years of her life gone by, she mused, Emma sang along with Henry and Ruby, her voice flawless beside her ear. She wondered if they might venture out to a concert, then. She'd heard rumor that Garbage were planning a tour in the Summer. The thought thrilled her as she imagined the excitement and chaos of it, of sitting beside Emma at a concert and listening to her sing along.

She kissed rough knuckles again, watching the still horizon and fighting a smile. She'd found her heart and mind filled with these little seeds, since she and Emma had begun their courtship. Happy thoughts and intentions. Her world changing and growing, blooming in all the myriad ways she'd cursed out of her life so many years ago.

Soon, though unhurriedly, the sky lightened and the sun began to rise. The smoked emerald of the wintery sea at the horizon transmuted to burnished silver as it did. The sky was flat and grey, cloudless once more but full of moisture. Frost gleaming as light filled the world once again. Slow, easing into the world in fits and starts, melting the lavender dusk of morning until the moment when golden light erupted over the horizon.

She closed her eyes and turned her face to glance at her son, catching his dancing eyes and easy smile. She smiled at Ruby and sighed as Emma placed a kiss to the corner of her lips.

"The nights all get shorter from here, right?" Emma breathed, her breath carrying the scent of coffee and the lightness of utter confidence. Of never doubting the sun would rise or the nights retreat.

She adored her for it. She loved the woman who had brought life and happiness and optimism into her life.

Loved her, with all that was in her heart.

_28th December_

Christmas had been a fiasco, of course. There'd been a power outage and they'd needed to use the, in Regina's opinion, inferior gas oven in her garage to roast the turkey and potatoes. Neal had also puked all over her new dress within ten minutes of arrival and an actual elf had appeared and stolen the ham but overall, in she scheme of things, no one had been killed or maimed.

And Emma, her clumsy, beloved sheriff, had adored every moment of it. She'd made frequent trips to the chilly garage to watch the food, had retrieved the ham and helped Regina out of her dress (maybe even for altruistic reasons, though she was only human). She'd played with Henry and Neal, chatted to her parents and been a gracious host when Eugenia and Ruby had arrived.

So natural, Regina mused, in her home. So comfortable and confident. Bringing laughter and fun with her, instilling a warmth Regina had never realized the house was missing. She tightened the grip she had on Emma's hand, the knowledge that it was time to ask her to move into Mifflin Street permanently rising to the forefront of her mind.

Henry strode ahead of them, as usual, babbling on about New Years and the books he'd received with happy abandon.

They rounded a corner, mindful of the icy sidewalk, and turned down into Michael Tillman's driveway, the Bug nestled beneath an inch of fresh snow. Michael was outside, cleaning the last of the driveway with a wide shovel. He raised a hand in greeting and grinned at Emma, eyes gleaming.

"Hey, Mike," Emma laughed. "How's she doing?"

"Emma," he chuckled, "at this rate, you're going to put the kids through college," he joked.

Emma groaned and Henry peered up at her, a mischievous glint to his eyes. "What's the damage this time?"

"Well, nothing, actually," he replied, jutting his chin to Regina. "Mayor Mills already took care of it."

Emma turned incredulous eyes to Regina, gratitude seeping from every pore.

"You bought me a new fuel pump for Christmas?"

"I did," Regina answered, because she had. "Though I still have many, many objections to you driving around in that deathtrap."

Emma kissed her and dropped her hand, bouncing to the car and brushing the snow off it with the side of her arm. Michael approached her and nodded with wary respect, though none of the hatred that he'd once held for her.

"She doesn't know, huh?"

Regina shook her head. "I know there's only so much can be done to make it safer, but every little helps."

Michael snorted. "With the new brakes, she might bust her nose if she stomps like she had to before."

Regina chuckled at that. "I've been trying to get her to learn healing magic so..."

A gasp drew their attention to Emma, standing rigid beside the open door of the Bug. One hand on the door and another reaching for the interior of the car. Henry was grinning beside her and nudged his mother, shocking her back to life.

"You had the upholstery fixed?" Emma asked, voice vulnerable and low. Regina felt her cheeks flush but approached anyway, peering into the car and surveying the job. She had to admit, Michael and his helpers had done excellent work. The cracked and stained leather had been replaced with soft, tan hide. The scent was beautiful, reminding Regina of tack and saddles and a time when she'd been young and happy. The carpet had been replaced, too, and the entire interior scrubbed to within an inch of its life.

It was still quite plain, to Regina's eye, and lacked in many of the basics she herself believed a car required, particularly a CD player. That said, it meant the world to her lover and Regina ached, longed, to give her precisely that. To give something to the little girl who'd been shuffled from pillar to post, never finding a home or waking to presents waiting for her.

"Happy Christmas, love," she answered, ducking her face. "Sorry about the delay, but this wasn't going to fit under the tree."

Emma laughed, then, because there had already been gifts. Gifts and presents and promises made.

She swooped her into her arms, laughing as they spun beside their son and an amused mechanic. Snow flakes drifted from dark clouds and, with a kiss and a smile, the little family piled into the car, headed for home.


End file.
